Sentiments
by vegamarie
Summary: When do we realize the extent of how much we change throughout life? Vegeta finds himself writing about his life in terms of how he changed from being a murderer to one capable of feeling love and remorse.


_Hello. I'm back with another story about Vegeta. As a point of reference, Vegeta is writing an epitaph during the first half to someone important to him. The second part switches over to a dialog between himself and Goku and the meaning behind the writing. Enjoy!_

Sentimentalism….

I believe in my old age that is what has become my affliction. What I spent trying to avoid during my youth and middle adulthood eventually infected every part of my being. Using a metaphor I picked up during my time on Earth, I could tell you exactly what it was like: a seed embedding itself somewhere within the rotten and putrid remnants of my heart, slowly taking root and then shooting out clinging tendrils like a creeping vine. The process was slow and steady, and it never relented. Could I say that I hated it? Of course, that is what I would like to tell you. Yet, there is this weakness within me that let it happen until I became an old man that had a heart at odds with the hideousness of what I had done in my younger years.

You could say it was like a curse of sorts: to finally become aware of the wrongs in my past and realizing that I would never be able to make up for them. The kicker, however, was the fact that the person or persons responsible for this change within me could look at me knowing what they knew without revulsion. I used to wonder if given the choice of whether or not to continue condemning a known miscreant such as myself, would I be as lenient and understanding? Would I be as forgiving as those around me? I would like to say yes…yet only Kame and the gods above know the answer to that. However, those ideas are neither here nor there. They don't explain how I found the value of caring and indulging in emotions foreign to all that I understood growing up in a hellish environment.

I can remember when it started. After my humiliating defeat, first at the hands of a low class Saiyan, and then at the feet of the tyrant I spent the majority of my life serving up until that point, I became…lost. Certainly, back then, I would have denied such a blunt description of what ended up becoming the focal point for many of my actions for years to follow. Even I did not realize the truth, cowering behind my desire to prove to the universe that _I_ was indeed the strongest, not some upstart commoner who had even committed the most heinous crime of forgetting the blood of his Saiyan ancestors that poured through his veins. Yet, there was someone who, for whatever reason, either looked past my obvious faults or realized that I lacked a certain direction with my life. She took me in when I had no one left…and I _despised_ her for her concern. I hated her for what I perceived as her pity in someone as dark and violent as myself. Of course, I was wrong. It took me many years and countless mistakes to realize this facet, or to even admit to it. She never pitied me, and she hadn't taken me in for her own twisted agenda. She simply followed her heart, something I couldn't understand at that point in my life.

The moment I stepped across the threshold of Capsule Corporation as an honored guest instead of as an enemy, the balance of my life tipped. I became obsessed with Kakarot…with defeating him, with…with killing him. And she knew that. Why she continued to let me live within her home, or why she provided me with the tools I felt that I needed in order to attain the strength to prove my own self-worth with the goal of killing the man she thought of like a brother, I will never understand. In fact, I openly scoffed at what I thought of as her stupidity. However, I have come to believe that she knew no matter how much I lusted after defeating the buffoon who made a fool of the Prince of Saiyans, I didn't have it within me to kill him. I was using Kakarot as an excuse to fill up my own emptiness and my sudden lack of purpose. Even at that point, when I would brag to her about my Saiyan pride and the power I held as the leader of the Saiyans, I realized it was nothing more than an empty boast. Prince of…what? An idiot third class and his hybrid offspring, both disgusting parodies of what Saiyans were supposed to be like? It was a humiliating truth that I tried to deny during the first part of my life on Earth. As well as the fact that little by little, whether I liked it or not, I slowly became entrenched in learning to live a life foreign to me in a place that I found grotesque.

I put the blame squarely on Bulma's shoulders. I shouldn't say that is being fair, but without her meddling or her…caring of me, I wouldn't have found myself slowly and secretly indulging in emotional fantasies I had long since relegated to the back corners of my mind in a dusty box. I found myself making a connection of sorts…with her. We would fight constantly about the littlest, most inane things. I would complain about the food and she would have the audacity to tell me to cook my own meals if I didn't like what was being served. In all honestly, it was a relief to finally have meals provided that could slake my constant hunger, something that had been a rarity during my time under Freeza. However, my pride would never have allowed me to admit to that, nor would it let me tell her how grateful I was for being provided for in the manner I had been accustomed to before my planet met its untimely demise. My outward lack of gratitude led to countless, fickle arguments. For all that Bulma had a caring heart, she could be as stubborn and prideful as myself. That, of course, is what ended up leading to the biggest mistake of my life, which ended up becoming my greatest triumph.

I slept with her. I had never intended on doing something so base with someone I considered to be inferior to myself, yet…it happened. Even though I callously disregarded the fact that I had allowed myself physical pleasure with a human female, I couldn't stop myself from returning to her bed again and again during that infamous time devoted to training for the Androids and Kakarot's demise. I paid the price for my stupidity.

I ended up breeding her, and that disgusted me. She was weak and she wasn't a Saiyan. I knew days after conception that she was with child. I thought over how best to get rid of the bastard hybrid before she found out she was pregnant. It should have been easy. I could have simply trickled my ki within her womb when she was asleep, instantly vaporizing the developing fetus containing both my genes and hers. Yet no matter how many times I tried to destroy that small kernel of life, I couldn't make myself go through with it. It was the first time I realized my own cowardice and my growing softness from living with her and among her family and idiotic friends. How I hated myself at that moment. I was allowing…part of my own putridness a chance at living. At the same moment, I was deliberately breaking the social taboo of my ancestors that warranted the killing of anything that was a contamination of Saiyan bloodlines, in order to keep our race pure and uncorrupted. In that instant, I became a traitor to everything that had ever poured past my poisonous lips in regards to my heritage and my pride in being a Saiyan. I was less then nothing. I was worse scum then Kakarot. I was repugnant. And like a coward, I ran away from my problems.

I hid in space for months. Certainly, I justified my actions by convincing myself it was to gain the power I seemed unable to achieve on Earth. I roamed about my old haunts like a nomad, destroying what was left of the planets I had purged of life under an insane, power hungry megalomaniac. I also started to feel, for the first time, guilt for the crimes I had committed. It made little sense to me why I should have felt any remorse, yet I did, though I quashed it as best I could. Like everything that had ever bothered me or made me think of other options besides the paths I had laid out for myself, I hid it away from my consciousness as best I could. It wouldn't be until years later that I could finally admit that the things I had done in my past were inexcusable, yet it started during those hellish months of training.

When I finally ventured back to Earth, confident in my abilities as a Super Saiyan, it was only to have my reason for leaving thrown back in my face. I had a son…and an extremely angry and hurt woman who couldn't understand why I had left without telling anyone, especially her. For whatever reason, her accusations made me feel guilty. Instead of apologizing, I walked past her and told her that she meant nothing to me, as did the child. I remember clearly telling her that she should have been thanking me for taking the time necessary to make sure I was strong enough to defeat the threat looming upon the horizon so that she could continue living her pointless and mundane existence. Is it any surprise that she was furious with me? Yet…instead of throwing back some nasty and bitterly sarcastic comment, she calmly walked up to me and said words I have never been able to forget…

"_You can say whatever you like Vegeta. I know the truth."_

Truth? What truth? I asked her as much.

_"You left to run away and hide from yourself. You're scared of…I don't know, finding out you have a heart buried somewhere inside of you? Even I can see that you've changed, but you're afraid and you're intentionally blinding yourself. Well, wake up to reality. It's true that eventually, you're going to have to face up to the truth of what you did in the past. Maybe that's why it's scary finding out that you do care about things, whether you want to or not. Trying to escape from your fears isn't going to make them go away, and sooner rather then later, you'll eventually realize what goodness you have. It's too bad you're too proud to try and find it."_

With that, she walked away, leaving me fuming silently, denying that what she said held any portion of reality. For years, I ignored her statements, even when I allowed myself the small pleasure of watching my son grow before my eyes, or when I slowly found myself sinking into human routines after the defeat of Cell and the death of my greatest rival; even when I started having nightmares about my crimes against humanity. Those should have been the reality check, especially when the dreams centered around those who I had killed returning the favor to me one hundred fold. Yet I continued to hide from the reality of my remorse and of my growing…humanity. I even took it to the point of allowing myself to be controlled by that disgusting sorcerer Babidi so that I could feel the rage and hate within me that had slowly dwindled to less then nothing during my years on Earth.

I can say now that was the single greatest mistake of my life. It ended up causing my own death as a means of rectifying my mistake, but it eventually ended up culminating in the destruction of the place that had become a home to me. Bulma…died. My son died. Even if I could deny it, their deaths were because of my own stupidity and my over blown pride. Even after many years since that fateful battle, I can't shake the burden of guilt from within me, no matter that I have been forgiven over and over again by those who should rightfully hate me.

Perhaps that is why I suddenly made a conscious decision to live the remaining years of my life trying to make up for the sins of my past, especially against those who had taken a risk to show me a better way, to prove to me that I could also become the antithesis of what I had been before coming to Earth. Though I am by no means perfect, I have consciously striven to be a better husband, a better provider, and a better protector instead of selfishly living my life for the sole purpose of proving my own greatness. It took a piece of my pride to admit that I would never be as strong as Kakarot and to accept that facet, but in the end, that was what helped me to finally become someone I am not ashamed of.

With that acceptance, I tried to make up for my lack of attention in regards to Trunks with his younger sister and I took an interest in his progress as the heir apparent for Capsule Corporation. Though even at this point in my life it is difficult for me to express what I feel within myself, I have allowed a select few individuals to know me and understand me on a level that I would never have imagined during my imprisonment underneath Freeza's iron hand. Even Kakarot has become…a friend. Though we come from two vastly different backgrounds, there is an understanding between the two of us that runs deeper then blood. For all that I used to accuse him of being less then worthy of his Saiyan heritage, it's that same heritage that has formed a bridge between the two of us, ignoring both our differences in status and upbringing. He understands my tendency towards violence and my love of fighting, that no matter how much Bulma believed she really understood what makes me work, she could never relate to. I have found a connection with someone who I had once despised and the irony isn't beyond me. Still, without Kakarot…

He, just like Bulma, was another catalyst for my growth as an individual. I can actually laugh at myself over my own stupidity when I think about the number of times Kakarot should have killed me. Yet, the idiot never bothered because for some bizarre reason, he understood what I could not for many years: that there was something redeeming within me. That I was a confused and self-destructive individual shaped by forces that could eventually be almost completely undone.  
For whatever reason, he decided my life was worth sparing; something no one had ever done before that point when we first met here on Earth as enemies. He was merciful…and of course I mistrusted his intentions and skewed them to be out of pity.

I have long since gotten over my misplaced assumptions. The truth is, I will never understand why Kakarot has always had the tendency to be lenient towards those who would wish him harm. Even though I have mellowed considerably, I know that I would not be so forgiving. Again, this point often brings up the stark reminder of our different pasts. I cannot trust those who would hurt others. I can't because I understand where they are coming from since I was once like that. Being merciful is not something I am good at, though I have made an attempt to not ridicule and berate Kakarot for his choice to be so. After all, had he not shown me that same amount of mercy the number of times I tried to destroy him, I would not be who I am today.

It has taken me close to a lifetime to get to this point of finally acknowledging where due can be given in regards to my rehabilitation from that of a serial killer to a protector of life. Though you will not see or read this Bulma, I hope you understand how much I thank you for what you have given me. And Kakarot as well. I have become a sentimental idiot in my doddering old age, enough to write this brief epitaph chronicling the changes wrought within me. Thank you…

* * *

"Whatcha doing, Vegeta?"

'Idiot,' I think to myself as I hastily stuff my letter to you in my pocket. He's never been good at realizing that while I have become tolerant to the point of actually spending my free time with him, I don't appreciate his incessant curiosity.

"What does it look like?"

Standing up from my spot underneath an ancient maple tree, I wipe away the dead leaves and grass from the previous autumn, which have managed to cling to the back of my pants.

"Is there are a reason you decided to come traipsing all the way out here to find me?"

He scratches his head in the usual fashion. You know what I mean Bulma, the way that makes him look like he has some sort of parasite infecting his scalp. Rolling my eyes at him, I cross my arms, although I'm itching to cuff him and then pretend I was trying to get rid of whatever bug is making him scratch his head. Of course, that would go against my carefully crafted image of proud and arrogant prince. He continues to scratch sheepishly for a full minute before answering my question.

"I was just…um, well worried about you. You've been gone for hours and, well…"

He trails off and I frown slightly. Only he would be worried about me. It sometimes amuses me how much Kakarot reminds me of a fretful mother hen when concerned about my well-being. That, of course, is a tremendous change on my part. I'm sure you can recall a time Bulma when I would have blown up over what I often thought was your ridiculous obsession with being overly concerned. I am, after all, a grown man capable of taking care of myself. Still, I find it…flattering that the moron seems to care about me, when I'm fairly certain those that are still left living could pretty much care less what I do when I disappear. I make this point apparent to him.

"Kakarot, I've been gone for months without anyone bothering to look for me. So what makes you so concerned, especially when it's only been a few hours?"

Tapping my foot, I wait for his forthcoming answer, watching as he tries to screw together an explanation. Though Kakarot is not stupid, for all that he comes across as being the biggest imbecile this side of the universe, I have a feeling that with me, he consciously strives to make his points as mild as he can. In that way, he can avoid a nasty rebuttal or a punch to the face. Again, it is another amusing difference between you and he, Bulma. You never tried to sugar coat your words with me, yet Kakarot does. He's ever the peacemaker, while I am ever the antagonist.

Slowly, I can see the sentences forming within his mind before he speaks up.

"Well, it's just that it's that…day."

I put on a blank expression and turn my head away from him, clearly telling him that I don't wish to take this conversation any further. He's wise enough to heed the silent warning and only lets out a sigh of inevitability. Dropping his hands to his side, he waits for me to start walking.

Lost in my thoughts of you, Bulma, I don't realize that as we have been meandering, I've been following his lead and somehow we end up at the place I've been meaning to visit since I wrote that letter to you.

"Kakarot…" I growl out, but it's completely wasted on him. Instead he kneels in the dirt next to the lake shore where you are…

"Hey Bulma," he whispers and I can sense his sorrow. It mirrors my own.

"Can you believe it's been twenty two years since we last talked to you in person? Me and Vegeta are both here. He's really come a long way since you left, Bulma. You'd be proud of him and of your kids, your grandkids, and your great grandkids. Yeah, Trunks is a grandfather. I know it's a lot to take in, but I'm sure you've been watching out for all of us up in Otherworld. Well, I think Vegeta wants some time alone with you, so I'll stop rambling and…just leave for a little bit."

With that, he stands up and wipes off his blue gi pants, stepping to the side and giving me a look that says he will give me my privacy and that if anything should happen, he'll be around the corner to help out. I honestly don't know why he thinks there should be a problem. After all, it's…it's you.

As soon as he disappears from sight, this overwhelming sensation of emotion wells to the surface. Gods Bulma, you have no idea…the very feeling makes is seem as though my heart is going to explode in to a million pieces. I try so hard to keep this mask in place, which hides my true emotions. As you well know, it's against my pride to wear my heart on my sleeve like Kakarot does. Yet here…I can't…find control.

Sinking down onto the soft, damp soil, I clutch the letter to my chest and push my forehead into the dirt.

"Fuck Bulma…"

Every year, this happens, as I'm sure you are aware. I lose my tight control and let my anguish over my loss of you seep to the surface. Only here. Only in this place.

For close to an hour, I sob my feelings of loss and loneliness for you into the sand. Does that surprise you, that your disappearance from my life has left a hole that will never be filled? That I still grieve for you after all these years since you left me alone? I have a feeling that it does not, but then, you have always known things about me that I never did until they slapped me in the face. You had that…talent, something which Kakarot also possesses.

Eventually, my grief for you ebbs and I start taking control of myself. Pushing up onto my knees, I try my best to scrub away my tears and the dirt that has found its way into my hair and onto my shirt and pants. Standing up, I walk to the edge of the lake and peer into the rippling, clear blue surface that always reminds me of your eyes.

"Bulma…I wrote something for you. I don't know if you'll be able to read it wherever you are, but it explains things that I never expressed to you while you were alive. You were my anchor, more then I ever gave you credit for. Certainly, since you've been gone, I have recovered enough to have found another person who somewhat fills in the things I miss most about you. At any rate…I hope you are well."

Not knowing what else to say to you, I take the letter and drop it onto the glassy surface of the water and watch as is floats away on the current. Feeling a sense of relief and closure, I bow before your resting place and then slowly make my way back towards the wooded area that lines the shore.

Not surprisingly, Kakarot is waiting for me. He steps away from the tree he's been lounging against and walks towards me, falling into step as we both head out towards the tree I spent the afternoon writing down my words for you. He doesn't say anything, knowing that I have expelled my grief which I will repeat a year from now.

Eventually, we pass the tree, at which point he stops. Halting next to him, I cock my head in curiosity, especially when he frankly assesses me as though he has that right.

"Are you really okay Vegeta?"

Letting out a breath of irritation between my lips, I cross my arms and make sure my mask is back on where it belongs.

"Of course I am, idiot. Why wouldn't I be?"

He slowly nods his head, knowing the truth even though I try to hide it from him as best I can. I'm not really okay…I haven't been since your death, yet I am able to finally live as though I am, though it has taken me a considerable amount of time. He, of course, knows this better than most, considering he went through the same process when his own wife went to where you are now. Yet, for whatever reason I still haven't been able to figure out, I have taken your loss much harder than he did with his own spouse. Perhaps it is differences in our personalities. Or perhaps it is because you were the first person I ever came to truly care for. Shrugging off my uneasiness, I stare at him.

"I'm glad that you're doing okay Vegeta," he mutters out uncomfortably before he changes the subject, no doubt wanting to avoid any more discomfort.

"Umm…Vegeta, what do you want to do now?"

I glance up at him and then smirk slightly. It's obvious how much he cares about me, though he continually tries to hide that fact. It's been a long day for me, Bulma. All I want is to go to the place where I belong.

"Let's just go home, Kakarot."

_A/N: I'm not implying Vegeta/Goku yaoi at the end. Instead, I'm implying that Goku and Vegeta have a relationship that extends from their bonds of being Saiyans and of both having lost the two people they were closest to. It would only make sense, in my mind, that they would forge a strong bond out of their mutual loses and their understanding of one another. I hope that makes sense and I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review!_


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